I was in first grade, having seen blurred blobs on the board where my vocabulary words were suppose to be for months. I shrugged my shoulders, I got up so I could get closer never thinking – and definitely not seeing – a thing out of place, dreaming of Nancy Drew and Boxcar Children in my six year old mind.
This went on for weeks, until a routine visit to the doctor, had my primary care doing an eye check where I discovered I needed glasses. My big sister and my dad wore them all the time and the rest of my family had them as well.
I thought cool, and picked out a pair of spotted blue spectacles. At six years old, I didn’t have a love hate relationship, I was innocent to the cruelty of kids, and the woes of fashion and glasses being “uncool.”
That quickly changed…
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